


Within the Slender Margin

by moderatelyokay



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Harry Potter Next Generation, Hufflepuff Pride, Post Hogwarts AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-16
Updated: 2018-03-16
Packaged: 2019-04-01 04:54:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13990896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moderatelyokay/pseuds/moderatelyokay
Summary: An AU Hogwarts next generation fic from the viewpoints of Scorpius Malfoy, Rose Weasley-Granger and Albus Potter. How do you live up to parental and familial legacy? It also features occasional chapters from the perspectives of Harry Potter's cohort generation. The story diverges from canon established in "The Cursed Child", but the play inspires some of the story.(Fic previously posted over at FanFiction.net under another name and title, and was never completed there.)





	1. Chapter 1

Sipping on a glass of clear liquid as she gazed out a window, Astoria Greengrass-Malfoy stood verdantly resplendent in a tailored green suit (with matching paisley scarf and silver jewelry) at the kitchen counter of the luxury town home, a coiffed society wife juxtaposed against the banality of a kitchen sink filled to the brim with breakfast pans and dishes as yet unwashed by the house elf, Timbly. Astoria leaned forward to push open the window as a brown owl hopped on the open windowsill and proferred a foot burdened with a greatly anticipated letter. Astoria plucked the letter from its grasp and shooed it away. The owl hooted and with a flutter of wings flapped away. Astoria set down her drink and shut the window.

"Scorpius, darling, come downstairs," said Astoria in a barely elevated voice, just loud enough for her son to catch her words, as she turned away from the sink. Her strident steps in kitten heels clattered against the marble foor as she again, louder this time, called for her son. She heard her sound bounding thunderously down the stairs before she caught sight of his blond hair over the bannister. The expected thud of his landing, as he liked to leap down the last three to four stairs, resounding in the foyer was met with Astoria's exasperated sigh as she sauntered into the foyer herself.

"Scorpius, one day you'll break your legs," Astoria admonished as she extended the letter to her son, who covetously snatched it from her hand. She smoothed the front of her suit, and then stood with one hand on her left hip as her son tore into his Hogwarts letter. The expression on his face – wide-eyed with joy and wonder – brought a smile to Astoria's typically composed face. "Your father and I expect you'll be in Slytherin."

"Or perhaps I'll be in Gryffindor," he responded with a wicked grin beaming across his slender face.

Astoria's smile faltered. "I doubt that dear, for your grandfather Lucius would disown you."

"I could be in Hufflepuff like Grandmother Eleanor."

"You could, and she would be delighted. But–"

"Grandfather Lucius would send me a howler."

"I doubt your grandfather would take such drastic measures. He would be displeased."

"I'll make sure to be in Hufflepuff to please Grandmother Eleanor."

"You'll be in Slytherin. I've absolutely no doubt about that, at all. Your tutors suggested you were quite ambitious with your studies. When you get to Hogwarts, I expect for you to continue to be a star pupil."

"I want to be the best in my year."

"Exactly the attitude a Slytherin would have!"

"Or a Ravenclaw! Can we go collect my school supplies today? I'd like to get a head start."

"Scorpius, it's November. We have a while to go before you need your supplies. Besides, you already have some of your books."

"I've read Hogwarts: a History cover-to-cover seven times. I've read Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, even though I won't need that until third year! I want the rest of my books today," he said, a commanding ring to the words.

"Tomorrow, weather permitting," Astoria stated firmly. When her son began to protest, she lifted an eyebrow and reiterated her statement in the icy, resonant tones that usually quelled his arguments. Her coughing fit shattered the authoritative image.

"Yes, mother," he said softly and turned to go up the stairs, retreating as he did when her illness became apparent.

Still coughing, Astoria returned to the kitchen and her potion.


	2. Chapter 2

Scorpius picked absently at the dinner roll on his plate, his mind racing and bounding from thought to thought. He had diligently packed his Hogwarts trunk that afternoon, and he wondered if he had forgotten anything. He doubted it, because his mother had provided him with a list that he had checked off item for item. His mother would send anything he forgot, anyway; he was sure of that.

A knock on the table startled him out of his worries. He glanced up at his mother.

"Scorpius, dear, eat your dinner. We have things to discuss with you, but I would rather you ate some of your dinner before we fall into heavy conversation," Astoria reprimanded gently.

"Yes, mother," he said, putting down the portion of his dinner roll he hadn't shredded to bits. He looked down at his plate with a frown. How to attack this meal? His mother had made one of his favorites, though how many other purebloods ever ate chicken stroganoff and much less cooked it, Scorpius had no idea. He shrugged off the stray thoughts and picked up his utensils, cutting his serving of chicken breast into bite-sized pieces. He glanced up at his parents as he took a bite, looking between his father and his mother. They often sat in silence, but it was never an uncomfortable silence. Although they lived in a luxurious London townhouse, Draco Malfoy seemed to prefer quiet and the reserved company of his wife and son.

So, in companionable silence the three Malfoys ate until Scorpius had cleared enough of his plate to appease Astoria. She again rapped her knuckles against the mahogany table to catch Scorpius's attention. Draco cleared his throat, and then took a sip of wine.

"Tomorrow is a special day for you, which is why I prepared your favorite meal," Astoria began slowly, her eyes fondly settling on her son. She lifted her wineglass in toast, her husband following suit. "To Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy, may your future be as bright as the stars in the constellation you were named for. I'll let your father take over from here."

Draco took a long sip of wine. Scorpius watched him, blinking.

"Scorpius, our family has a storied past. Some of our reputation must be cherished, while other parts of our reputation needs...to be refurbished. My parents set me on the wrong path as a child, which is why I've tried to let your mother do most of your rearing. I wasn't certain that I should be too closely involved in raising you."

"Dad—"

"No, Scorpius, you need to hear this. And you need to finish your dinner while you listen. There is a lot of prejudice against the name 'Malfoy', because of things that my father did, and because of things that I did. You've heard some history of Vol..." Draco paused to take a gulp of wine, "Voldemort, but you haven't heard how our family was involved. My father was an avowed follower, and I followed, wrongly, in his footsteps. Out of fear, I did things that I shouldn't have done. We were on the wrong side of history.

"Much to my father's displeasure, I apprenticed as a healer at St. Mungo's. I did it to help your mother and to atone for what I'd done, and I'm hoping my contributions in that field will diminish the mark on the Malfoy name. I'm hoping that, whatever you do in life, you'll do to improve not only the Malfoy name but also our world. I believe you're intelligent enough to do so, but also, I think you have the right disposition to use that intelligence well. You have discernment that I never had. I have your mother to thank for that.

"There are people who will hate you for your name, for your relations. Don't let them bring you down. Ignore them. You are growing up to be your own person, with your own beliefs and your own values. You are a very intelligent young man, and I think you may be wise beyond your years. Certainly, you're more reserved and thoughtful than I was as a child," Draco paused to clear his throat. He then took another sip of wine. "I'm proud of you now, and I'll be proud of you whatever house you're sorted into tomorrow evening. I hope it's not Gryffindor, but if it is, I'll come to terms with it. It won't be the end of the world."

Draco Malfoy smiled at his son, his expression relaxed—and for once, relieved. Scorpius had never seen that kind of expression on his father's face before, and he felt confused by it.  
Astoria Greengrass-Malfoy looked between her husband and her son, and then slowly stood up from the table. "Scorpius, keep eating your dinner. I'm bringing out dessert. You can have some after you've finished your vegetables."

* * *

As Malfoys, the Greengrass-Malfoys traveled in style: an enchanted Rolls-Royce. The Muggle neighbors had long gotten used to the eccentricities of the family, and simply assumed that Draco made unnecessary quantities of money. None of the neighbors asked the aloof Malfoys a thing, but they certainly whispered amongst themselves!

The automobile was green with a silver interior, a nod to Draco and Astoria's Hogwarts days. Scorpius slid into the backseat while the half-blood driver loaded his school things into the trunk; after finishing this task, the driver ushered Draco and Astoria into the backseat as well. The interior was, of course, charmed to be very roomy and luxurious. The beauty of being a wizard was that you could have the benefits of a stretch limousine without the pitfalls of a stretch limousine.

Scorpius sometimes felt embarrassed by the pretentious show of wealth and status, and today he was acutely aware of a feeling that he somehow did not fit in with his family. His parents were beaming at him as the driver shut the door behind them. As the driver got into the front seat and started the car, Astoria stated somewhat mechanically, "We expect that you'll be sorted into Slytherin. It does run in families. However, if you aren't, we'll break the news gently to Grandfather Lucius. Ravenclaw would not be a bad second choice, although then we'd have to find a way to appease my mother."

Scorpius bit back his grin.

"Liam, take us to King's Cross," ordered Draco.

And with that, they were off through the London traffic. Their driver, Liam, was an expert at navigating its pitfalls without the bells and whistles of the Knight Bus. The conversation during the ride was mundane, with Astoria asking multiple times whether or not her son had forgotten anything. Scorpius was positive he had forgotten nothing. Draco chimed in to tell Scorpius that they'd be purchasing an owl for him for his birthday, but until that time came around, he would have to do with either Esther or one of the school's owls.

The family had gentle, jovial banter over the types of owls they might get Scorpius for his birthday.

As they pulled up to a spot at King's Cross station, Astoria sat up straight, "Oh, as a reminder, the Zabinis, Bulstrodes and Notts have children going into their first year. You'll remember them from a Christmas party two years ago. Delilah Zabini, Rhys Bulstrode and Dylan Nott."

"The Potters and Weasleys have children going in, also."

"Let's not restart that rivalry," came Astoria's droll rejoinder.

"No, I guess I do want the families to turn over a new leaf. Maybe he should befriend the Weasley horde instead?"

"Let's not take it that far!" Astoria exclaimed as their driver opened the door for them.

As they left the vehicle, Liam was quick to unload the trunk and find a trolley. Draco loaded the cart with Scorpius's effects, and then, with a 'good luck' from Liam, the Malfoys were on their way to Platform 9¾. They caught sight of the occasional wizarding family as they made their way to the barrier. On their way, they quietly explained the procedure of crossing to the platform to Scorpius. When they arrived between platforms nine and ten, Scorpius followed their instructions; Astoria and Draco followed him.

"Scorpius? Here's your ticket," Astoria said, opening her clutch and then handing the ticket to her son. Meanwhile, Draco looked into the distance as they approached the train.

"There's Potter and Weasley," Draco stated matter-of-factly.

"The youngest child looks exactly like Ginny," responded Astoria.

"And the middle one looks like Potter."

Scorpius followed his parents' gaze to the Potter-Weasley gathering a few cars down, and kept looking at them long past when his parents had looked away. Were these to be friends or enemies? What would his parents think if one day he married one of the two redheaded girls? He silently mulled these questions until Draco began ushering him onto the Hogwarts Express.

"Write us tomorrow morning at breakfast," Astoria told her son over the platform's din.

"You'd best be in Slytherin," said Draco, but his smile told his son that the other houses were an option.

"Ah, there's the Zabinis and Bulstrodes," said Astoria, waving for them to join them. "Scorpius, these are Delilah and Rhys. You remember them from the party a few years ago? Yes? Alright, onto the train with all of you!"

The thee first years boarded the train and found an empty compartment. They stowed their belongings, then opened the window to wave their goodbyes to their parents. Almost tardy to the train, Dylan Nott joined them in the compartment. As the whistle blew, they all settled into their seats, still waving to their parents as the train began to pull away from the platform.

As the Hogwarts Express began to pick up speed, Delilah moved to close the window. Rhys shut the compartment doors, and then the four began animatedly talking about their anticipated arrival at Hogwarts. While Delilah, Rhys and Dylan bragged of Slytherin and boasted of the glories they would achieve for that house, Scorpius maintained a reserved presence in the conversation. He was almost certain that they would not be his peers. Did he have ambitions? Yes, he did. He simply didn't share the verve the other three had for Slytherin House. He did, however, generously treat them to Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans and chocolate cards when the candy trolley rolled past.

Scorpio was almost relieved when the train stopped. He straightened his robes as he stood up.

The excited quartet grabbed their belongings and disembarked from the train. Although Scorpius had heard exaggerated tales from his three companions over the height, width and breadth of Rubeus Hagrid, he was quite surprised by those qualities when he saw the half-giant in person. Lantern in hand, the enormous man herded the awed first years to the boats.

Everything he had read about Hogwarts paled in comparison to experiencing the ritual in person or first seeing the splendor of Hogwarts castle. The atmosphere on the lake lent itself to hushed voices, and he strained to hear his three companions as the boats took them closer and closer to Hogwarts. The general consensus was wonder, amazement and joy in the experience. The excitement (and anxiety) bubbled up in Scorpius's stomach.

They were ushered into the castle and met by the head of Gryffindor House, Professor Longbottom. The man was smiles and warmth as he corralled the eager first years into the Great Hall, leading them the front of the grandiose room. The fabled Sorting Hat sat on a stool, just as Scorpius had read. His heart leapt to his throat and throbbed as the Hat began to sing about the Houses and the wonders of House unity. Once the poem ended, Professor Longbottom began calling the children to the stool.

An Eliza Adams was sorted into Gryffindor. Delilah Bulstrode was in Slytherin before the brim of the hat could shade her eyes. Scorpius waited for what seemed like an eternity for his turn, his new classmates getting sorted variously into the four Houses.

"Malfoy, Scorpius," called Professor Longbottom.

Scorpius held his pointy chin high as he ascended to the stool. The Sorting Hat wasn't on his head before it was saying to him, "A Malfoy? I see one of you every twenty to thirty years, and you're always in Slytherin ... but you, you are different."

I am? He thought.

"Oh yes, very different. You're certainly ambitious, and you're certainly quick-witted, but you also display bravery and tenacity. Few purebloods come to Hogwarts with so much knowledge of Hogwarts, or even such depths of magical knowledge. But you want more than top marks. Oh yes, you are very ambitious, but above all you are unafraid to work hard to attain your goals, and you care very much about right and wrong!"

Scorpius was vaguely aware of the whispering din in the room around him.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" the hat shouted.

An astounded Professor Longbottom lifted the hat from Scorpius's head, and the equally shocked Scorpius slipped off of the stool and stumbled over to the Hufflepuff table. Not since the Malfoy family had first come to England had a Malfoy been sorted anywhere but Slytherin. In a daze he realized that Albus Potter had been sorted into Slytherin, and Rose Weasley-Granger had joined him in Hufflepuff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some drawn from Cursed Child, some not!

**Author's Note:**

> The majority of this fic deviates from "The Cursed Child", but it does draw from some of the material presented there. 
> 
> Given the choices that Astoria makes for Draco in "The Cursed Child", I decided to view Astoria Malfoy as an agentic woman who would hyphenate her name, proud of her own heritage and unashamed of her husband's surname (despite it being out of style after the war). I also decided that she wouldn't want to live at Malfoy Manor. If you couldn't tell from this chapter, Astoria is physically unwell. Instead of having Astoria and Draco seclude themselves at the Manor, I decided they would find anonymity in a wealthy portion of London away from Lucius and Narcissa. 
> 
> The title derives from a quote by legendary Japanese dramatist of kabuki fame, Chikamatsu Monzaemon: "Art is something which lies in the slender margin between the real and the unreal." I previously had used another name ("Life is Short, Art is Long" from a Greek aphorism attributed to Hippocrates), but wanted to reference the Monzaemon quote which is a favorite of mine. "Art" is understood differently in the two, but both will become equally applicable.


End file.
